


the only heaven i'll be sent to (amen)

by orphan_account



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blasphemy kink, Cock Sucking, Gang Bang, Humiliation kink, M/M, No underage this takes place several years in the future (of an au no less), Other, Rimming, Trans Male Character, brief 69ing, but i might have messed up on that once or twice please forgive me, degradation kink, ftm Jiang, healthy kavinsky, that's a kink all its own tbh, there's too much fluff in this, they/them pronouns for skov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 21:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Of course he moans when he gets to offer his ass up," Swan mumbles as hands, presumably Skov’s, grab Ronan’s hips. A body lays between his thighs, pinning his legs in his pants, and mouths at the curve of his ass. Joey's hand tightens."What," Joey says slowly and deliberately, "do you," a warm wet tongue presses against Ronan through his briefs and his cock throbs, "want?""Absolution," Ronan chokes out. It doesn't feel like giving up, it feels like a release. He hears a delighted laugh from Jiang, who he can't place in the room until suddenly there's a hand under Skov's mouth grabbing Ronan's ass so roughly that he chokes out a finally audible moan through a throat closing under the increased pressure of Kavinsky's hand; it increased when Ronan’s arms gave out."Of course you would," Jiang murmurs and Ronan's cheeks burn. Kavinsky's laugh is loud and hyena-like, dripping mockery. Ronan's blood runs hotter."I don't think your God will give it to you," Joey says breezily and removes his hand so Ronan can take in great gasps of air as the hands on his hips drag his underwear down achingly slow."What God?" he rasps at Joey, "you?"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/gifts).



> This was edited by a very dear friend who took pity on my lazy editing-hating ass! Also guess who it's for!

Ronan only drives this way when he's falling apart. Which doesn't entirely make sense because why, when he feels too big for his skin, but too small for the world and like he's falling apart faster than a jigsaw puzzle in a hurricane, would he drive toward deconstruction? He thinks he wants a more controlled descent or maybe a faster end, but it doesn't really matter when he pulls into the Kavinsky driveway.

 

He exhales slowly as he parks and looks up in time to see the curtains of Swan and Skov's bedroom (as if the pack don't all end up in the nest of blankets and mattresses and forever-lost sweatshirts in the basement most night anyway) flutter. He swallows again and gets out of the BMW.

 

He can't decide if he wants to put his keys in his car and risk the pack locking them in and him out, therefore refusing to let him leave (it's happened before)- or if he should take his keys with him and risk Prokopenko's or Swan's greedy hands snatching them out of his pocket and taking his car for a destructive joyride (which has also happened before). He tries to remember which happens with less frequency before giving up and tossing the keys in the driver's seat and slamming the door. _Proko will probably steal it anyway,_ he thinks and the mild affection that accompanies the thought makes him shake his head as he jogs up the drive.

 

He doesn't knock because that would be stupid, just pushes hard on the already open door. It collides with the wall in a loud crash. When he walks within sight of the living room he peers in and Skov gives him a bland look from one of the many overstuffed armchairs in the living room. Ronan gives them a bland look back and they enter into a staring contest. Their eyes stay locked as Ronan's fingers jitter over his sides. Skov ultimately wins because Ronan is too keyed up to focus and Jiang says, "5-3 Skov's favor," from his nest of probably every single throw pillow in the house that hasn't yet found its way to the basement. Ronan makes a disgusted noise and he's mocked by a voice from among the pillows. He scowls at them for a second before Jiang's hand swats at them and they shift. He sees dark lovely fingers poke out of the depths and wiggle at him in a wave. Swan then.

 

Ronan heads past them up the giant staircase in the center at the back of the room. The one he knows for a fact is perfect for surfing down while riding household objects. He takes a left at the top and follows soft sighs and whimpers, when he begins to hear them, down a hallway. He ends up, naturally, at Proko's bedroom where the door is thrown open. Proko is on his back on the four poster bed in the middle of the room. His limbs are each tied to a separate post and Joseph Kavinsky is perched on his lap, swiveling his hips and humming in pleasure.

 

His head is back and his eyes are closed, but Ronan instinctively knows that his arrival was not missed. Ronan leans back against the door frame to watch and appreciate.

 

K wasn't exactly attractive during the drugs, maybe only in the way a bonfire is attractive because it's burning and will fuck you up if you touch it. He was not definitely not attractive during his recovery, when Ronan began to appear with any kind of consistency. He couldn't quite reach that bonfire type of attractiveness again when his meanness revived itself to snarl and snap at whatever hands were trying to roll him over to prevent him choking on his own vomit. Ronan idly traces scars on his fingers from K's teeth. From when he'd figured out a pill that was tasteless and instant and served only the purpose of stopping K from bringing cold-turkey-torture induced nightmares back with him from his bouts of unconsciousness.

 

Prokopenko spent K's recovery time somewhere between real and not real, awake and asleep, alive and dead. He drifted around as if he was a ghost, but retaining more form and color than Noah ever had. After the drugs, through another kind of recovery, Proko had been normal but K'd been too keyed up for them to deal with. He was always getting into stuff looking for drugs, and then getting into stuff just to get into it, like a child. A really, really horrible child that was ruining the lives of the pack (and Ronan) on purpose. Finally Jiang fucking snapped. When he first went storming up to K Ronan thought he was going to punch K, and stepped neatly out of the way. Jiang almost did punch him.

 

Kavinsky's jump of surprise was probably what stopped him. Kavinsky didn't jump.

 

"He's coming with me," Jiang had gritted out and grabbed him by his newly-grown-back hair (that they'd shaved (made Jiang shave) after becoming bored of trying to clean vomit out of it) and dragged him to the door. Ronan had enough fragile trust in Jiang to not think he was going anywhere with drugs, but he asked anyway.

 

"Where are you going?"

 

"Out," Jiang had said in a clipped tone. Apparently 'out' meant going to Jiang's gym and getting the shit beat out of him in the boxing ring until he was too tired to make trouble. And then doing it again. And then doing it again. The first time Jiang come back with a bruise on his jaw they'd all stared and Skov had asked, with a kind of indignance, "did you trip?"

 

No, Jiang had not tripped, he'd just finally got a hit back. The next time, he got another one. And then Jiang had taught him how to hit without hurting his hand in 'some dumbass way' (as Jiang had said when he was teaching Skov) Jiang had gotten hit more.

 

The rest of them had always expected to see these new skills used on them, as an incentive to give him back his drugs or his alcohol. He never did, which was so un-Kavinsky that it was unnerving. It was, perhaps, Joseph though.

 

Trying to explain any difference between Joseph and Kavinsky to Gansey, Adam, or Blue was like slamming his hand in a door in order to show them how the bones aligned. So he didn't. He couldn't explain that Joseph was not Kavinsky, but was this radiant boy in front of him. Was the boy on Proko's lap with his muscular thighs pushing him up and lowering him down, with muscles in his tan back bunching and the only time Ronan can see his ribs is when Joseph lifts his hands to run them through his hair. His hair, which isn't scraggly and oily anymore. It's thick and dark, falling in waves down his skull and nearly to his shoulders, away from the shaved right side. Ronan knows he’s let Jiang get to him again, because a spiky tribal pattern is shaved into the buzzed hair.

 

Proko writhes on the bed, hands desperately reaching for Joey, but absolutely unable. He throws his head back, blonde hair sticking up like duckling fluff, and bares the flushed column of his throat.

 

"Ronan," Joseph says on a sigh, rolling his hips and purring at the feeling of Proko inside him.

 

"Joey," Ronan says raspily, and Proko’s pale eyes spring open to find Ronan’s.

 

"Ilya." Proko shudders at the sound of his name and tries to buck up into a downward roll of Joseph's hips. Joey growls.

 

"Behave,” he snaps at Prokopenko, whose muscles soften submissively as he whines.

 

“What do you want Ronan?" Joey asks and Ronan shrugs even though Joey isn't looking at him.

 

"Nothing," Ronan says breezily and turns on his heel to walk away. When he reaches the end of the hallway he hears a choked off, "Joey!" and when he reaches the third step from the top a hand catches his elbow.

 

"How dare you," says Joey as Ronan turns to look at him. He hears the tv in the living room shut off as Joseph continues, "make me chase you." Ronan’s eyes roam over his naked form. Joey is a good four inches shorter than him, but standing three steps up he’s got a good eight inches on Ronan. His hard cock bobs in front of him and Ronan can see come on the insides of his thighs. Ronan gives Joey a smirk, feeling his nerves spark.

 

“As if you don't like to chase me," Ronan says smartly and the hand on his shoulder tightens.

 

"As if you're not easy," Joseph challenges back and Ronan's throat closes. He can’t meet Joey's eyes anymore as a blush climbs to his cheeks and satisfaction radiates off of Joey.

 

"Well you certainly put him in his place," Jiang teases from the bottom of the steps and Ronan twitches as Joey laughs.

 

"It's not like it's hard," Joey scoffs  and his hand goes from Ronan's shoulder to the hair on top of his head, barely long enough to grab, but Joey manages anyway. He pulls Ronan toward him and in retaliation Ronan sways away. Joey gives a mean little pull to his hair as punishment, but it just makes Ronan's nerves crackle with life.

 

"Send him down to us," Jiang suggests, gesturing at the living room. A pleased, breathless laugh follows his gesture and Ronan identifies it as Swan under Skov’s hands.

 

"What'll you do with him?" Joey asks, not denying, just curious as he pulls Ronan's hair again. Ronan feels himself melting and leans his face into Joey’s shoulder as the sharp anger of the outside world falls away within the confines of the mansion and with the press of his face against Joey's shoulder. He exhales slowly and moves his lower lip against smooth hot skin pressed to his mouth. Joey's hand slides to the back of his skull to keep him there.

 

“Whatever we want man," Jiang says and Ronan knows the wicked grin that accompanies the words, knows the way it feels pressed into his skin.

 

"What do you want?" Joey asks and Ronan feels it on the tip of his tongue, the weight of the word weighing down his jaw as the rest of his body gives in to Joey's touch.

 

“Nothing," he chokes out instead and Joseph's hand tightens lightning fast in his hair, so hard a couple strands pop out.

 

“Take him," Joey says carelessly, releasing Ronan and stepping away to watch him sway.

 

“I have to go untie Prokopenko," he says with a shrug and walks away over the cream carpet. Ronan feels empty when he leaves, cold all over, and then another hand is at his elbow and the feeling is gone. He looks down at Jiang’s dark eyes.

 

"C'mon Ronan," Jiang says and if Ronan was stupid he'd call Jiang's tone kind. It doesn't reach his mirror black eyes. Jiang's hands are soft and nimble as he turns Ronan and unzips his leather jacket, pushing it off his shoulders to hit the floor with a soft 'whump'. Jiang’s fingers play in the neck of his t-shirt and Ronan stands still but gently trembling as Jiang tugs at the neck of his shirt. Ronan’s arms come up slowly and dreamily, or at least the way normal people describe dreams, and he grabs the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He drops it in a gray pile on the step and Jiang's lips quirk.

 

"C’mon," he says again and wraps his fingers around the chain on Ronan's neck, sliding his hand until it reaches the silver cross. The chain pulls tight as Jiang pinches the cross between his thumb, index, and middle finger. Ronan swallows hard. Jiang leads him down the steps like that, the cross pinched between his fingers and the chain tight against the back of Ronan's neck.

 

The second he enters the living room there are hands on him, all with the common goal of manhandling him backwards to sit on the couch. Delicate little Swan, with his short hair, and long lashes, and with skin darker than Ronan’s, comes to perch on Ronan's knees. He takes the cross from Jiang’s fingers and inspects it for a minute before flipping it upside down. He hold the end where to two lines cross so a thin length of silver protrudes out of his gently clenched fingers. Swan moves it forward until the line of silver presses against Ronan’s bottom lip. Ronan breathes out hard, once, when his lips are parted by the pressure. Swan presses more imploringly so Ronan presses his tongue forward gently, giving some slight push back. Swan’s face lights up delightedly.

 

"Of course you'd go right to using your tongue," he says teasingly and Skov snickers. Ronan’s eyes dart over Swan’s shoulder to find Skov on their back, wrists pinned to the floor by Jiang’s hands and hips lifting to roll with Jiang’s lazily.

 

"Focus," Swan says, pressing the cross against Ronan’s tongue in a semi-gentle jab.

 

"Don’t be greedy. You've got a pretty boy on your lap and you still want more attention?" Ronan’s cheeks burn and his eyes flick away again as Swan makes a little "hmph" sound.

 

"Is that what you want then," comes a voice from the doorway, "attention?"

 

Ronan looks over to find Joseph in the doorway, Prokopenko draped over his side and lazily mouthing at his neck. Ronan presses his face into Swan’s shoulder and shakes his head.

 

"Aw look J you've gone and upset him," Swan says mockingly, dropping the cross to bounce against his sternum. A hand enters Ronan’s hair and pulls his head up and up and back until Joey can look down and meet his eye.

 

"He’s not upset," Joey scoffs, "he likes it. He likes everything we give him and accepts it with open arms. Or, well," Joey’s voice turns almost mocking, almost proud as his hand slides to cup Ronan's jaw and his thumb catches Ronan’s lip and pushes in until he feels Ronan's tongue. Then he pulls Ronan’s jaw open and finishes his sentence with, "an open mouth."

 

Proko laughs into Joey’s neck and Jiang laughs into Skov’s. They make a sound of amusement and Swan laughs breathily into Ronan's ear. Ronan’s breathing is harsh over Joey’s finger and his lashes flutter closed.

 

"I want him on his knees," Joey says suddenly, giving Ronan’s hair a tug before moving away. Ronan’s eyes open as Swan moves off his lap. Ronan apparently moves too slowly because after he stands Joseph shoves his shoulder. If Ronan’s body was functioning properly it wouldn’t have been anything of consequence. However, Ronan’s joints are weak with arousal and his legs are shaky, so the shove is all it takes for him to drop to his knees.

 

“It’s a familiar position for you," Skov says, "shouldn't take you that long." Ronan curls over himself at Skov’s words and he’s so hard it hurts as his forehead touches the floor.

 

"C'mon now Lynch," Joey says, "who'd answer a whore's prayers right now?" Ronan stops breathing. Faster than he can register, Joey says, "changed my mind," and then there are hands on his ankles and a third hand on his ass, pulling and pushing down until he's flat on his stomach. He sees movement in front of him and hears the _shhht_ of a lighter. He looks up.

 

"What do you want?" Joey breathes out on a smoky exhale. He's sitting fully clothed in front of Ronan, and holding a joint between his lips. Ronan's head had nearly come off in rage the first time he'd caught Joey smoking pot on the deck. Jiang had barely restrained him long enough to talk him out of breaking Joseph's, and Jiang's for giving it to him, nose. Now it's not unexpected, nor is the way Proko climbs into Joey’s lap to kiss him with a hum and inhale the smoke out of Joey's lungs.

 

Joey passes the joint to Skov, who Ronan can’t see because he won't take his eyes off of Joseph. Joey opens his eyes as he darts his tongue into Proko’s mouth, keeping eye contact with Ronan as he slides a hand up to rub Proko’s bare ribs. Joey's cock is hard and leaking and so is Proko’s where it's pressed against Joey's side. Joey’s other hand reaches out and cups the front of Ronan's throat. A part of Ronan fractures and falls away like ice off a melting iceberg. He lets out a whimper.

 

On his stomach, he strains at the pressure of K's hand cupped around the front of his neck, pulling him up. Each time he falters the purposeful pressure on his windpipe spikes and his cock stirs in his pants. Joey says, "Skov," and Ronan doesn't have any time to try and react before fingers hook in the waistband of his pants and tug them down to his knees. A throw pillow from the nest finds itself shoved under Ronan's hips and he lets out a whisper of a moan.

 

"Of course he moans when he gets to offer his ass up," Swan mumbles as hands, presumably Skov’s, grab Ronan’s hips. A body lays between his thighs, pinning his legs in his pants, and mouths at the curve of his ass. Joey's hand tightens.

 

"What," Joey says slowly and deliberately, "do you," a warm, wet tongue presses against Ronan through his briefs and his cock throbs, "w- _ant_?" He adds a sudden emphasis halfway through the word and relaxes his hand on Ronan's throat.

 

"Absolution," Ronan chokes out. It doesn't feel like giving up, it feels like a release. He hears a delighted laugh from Jiang, who he can't place in the room until suddenly there's a hand under Skov's mouth grabbing Ronan's ass so roughly that he chokes out a finally audible moan through a throat closing under the increased pressure of Kavinsky's hand; it increased when Ronan’s arms gave out.

 

"Of course you would," Jiang murmurs and Ronan's cheeks burn. Kavinsky's laugh is loud and hyena-like, dripping mockery. Ronan's blood runs hotter.

 

"I don't think your God will give it to you," Joey says breezily and removes his hand so Ronan can take in great gasps of air as the hands on his hips drag his underwear down achingly slow.

 

"What God?" he rasps at Joey, "you?" He doesn't see what Joey does, but Ronan assumes he does something, because as soon as the word "you" leaves his mouth his briefs disappear from his ass, hands spread him and a tongue presses in. Ronan moans and gets his arms back under him so he can push back on it.

 

“Do you even know whose tongue is in your ass right now?" asks _Skov,_ which means the tongue isn't theirs and Ronan moans and shakes his head, pushing back in time with his heavy breaths.

 

"He doesn't care," Joseph says on a laugh.

 

“I think he likes not knowing," purrs Prokopenko, lifting his head from several plumb colored bruises on Joey's neck. His lips are shiny and red, and his pupils are blown.

 

"Of course he likes it," Skov scoffs. After prompting jabs of his fingers from Joey, Proko gets off his lap and disappears out of Ronan's sight. Joey spreads his legs invitingly, resting his temple on his bent right knee as he slides a hand over himself. The tongue against Ronan's ass presses forward, stretching his hole slightly and Ronan's mouth drops open on a moan. It stays open as Joseph spreads precome over the tip of his cock with his thumb and Ronan stares, want active and hot in his eyes.

 

"Aw look,' Joey croons, "look how badly he wants it Skov." Skov laughs as they come to sit next to Joey.

 

"Tell me Ronan," Skov says, reaching over to replace Joey's hand with their own. Joey sighs and closes his eyes, setting his palms behind him so he can lean back and stretching his legs forward leisurely as Skov pumps him. He kicks his hips up into Skov’s hand as noises start to punch out of his throat.

 

"Would you be upset if I finished him?" Skov asks. Ronan’s cock is heavy and hot against the pillow and he chokes out a desperate moan. His eyes burn.

 

"Would you move away from that tongue in your ass if it meant you could get your mouth on him before he came? If it meant you could taste him on your tongue?" Their voice drops, "If it meant he would come on your face?" Ronan’s groan tapers into a whine in his frustration and he presses back desperately on the tongue in his ass. He hears a cap pop open like a gunshot and he gasps.

 

“Yes," he breathes, to the sound of the lube cap, Skov’s questions, everything.

 

"Yes yes yes yes," he begs. His hands scrabble at the ground and he moves forward. He gets caught somewhere at middle distance, because the mouth doesn’t follow him, and his arms are shaky and weak. His breathing quickens desperately until suddenly there's a hand in his hair and the hot salty press of Joey’s cock slipping past his lips.

 

"Calm down," Joey murmurs as Ronan’s lips meet Skov’s fingers. Ronan moans around him agreeably. Joey chokes out a moan in response to Ronan humming around him, and Skov removes their hand so Ronan can take Joey deeper and swallow around him.

 

"Do you want someone to fuck you?" Joey breathes out thickly, and Ronan moans in response, bowing his back and presenting his ass in invitation. Rewardingly, a lube slick finger prods his hole. Ronan pulls back to suckle at the head of Joey’s cock, pumping the spit slick length of it with his hand. He rubs his tongue over the head, collecting rapidly beading drops of precome. The lube slick finger presses into him and he opens his mouth as he exhales a grateful sigh, letting Joey see his cock resting on Ronan’s bottom lip. Joey watches with rapt attention as Ronan pushes out his tongue, digging it into the slit of Joey’s cock and making him hiss. The finger pumps in and out of him and he moans again, looking up at Joey from under his eyelashes in time to see his eyes roll back and his mouth drop open on the moan that vibrates out of his throat as he comes. Ronan doesn't pull back, feeling the pulse of Joey’s cock resting on his bottom lip as streaks of come stripe his tongue.

 

When Joseph stops coming, still riding the buzz of his orgasm as he lowers himself back to lay on the ground, Ronan closes his mouth and swallows, eyes then rising to Skov who smirks at him.

 

"Desperate," is all Skov says and it makes Ronan shudder. Skov looks up, behind Ronan.

 

"Flip him over," Skov says, "I want to look at him when I fuck him."

 

Ronan gasps at all the hands suddenly on him and it takes him a moment to register that six hands mean Jiang, Swan, and Proko have all been watching this whole time. Theoretically he knew that, but seeing them all eye him hungrily makes him shudder.

 

Jiang only leans back from his position sitting between Ronan’s legs as he helps turn him with a firm grip on his thighs. When Ronan is situated again he slides his slick finger back in and leans down to press his tongue alongside as well. Ronan shudders as he watches Jiang, and then watches Swan slide up behind him. Proko comes to kneel next to Ronan’s ribs. Swan is very obviously in only sweats, the curve of his cock pressing against the curve of Jiang’s ass as he fits himself behind Jiang. Jiang hums and pushes back against him.

 

Proko is next to Ronan, but not touching anyone, content more to watch than be involved.

 

"Voyeur," Ronan chokes out and Prokopenko looks away from Jiang and Swan, down to meet his eyes. Jiang adds another finger to Ronan, making it hard to focus, and Skov kneels next to Swan to kiss him deep and hard. He licks into Swan's mouth with visible strokes of his tongue and Swan reciprocates enthusiastically.

 

"Slut," Proko says on a leisurely sigh, kicking his hips forward into his fist and tilting his head back, eyes closed.

 

Ronan jerks back onto Jiang's fingers and moans, planting his feet more firmly on the ground and spreading his thighs wider. Jiang adds a third finger in response. Skov laughs breathlessly into theirs and Swan’s kiss. They break it and tilt their head up and Swan obligingly goes for their neck so Skov can look at Prokopenko.

 

"He likes when you call him names," Skov states, laughing throatily and Swan smiles against the column of their throat.

 

“He likes when I expose him for what he is," Proko says in a tone as if agreeing to Skov’s statement, "he wants everyone to hear me call him a whore." Proko levels Ronan with a sly look and purrs, "As if they don't already know." Ronan whines as Jiang moves his fingers before Skov bullies him and Swan out of the way. Skov wastes precisely no time lining themself up between Ronan’s thighs. Ronan, propped up on his elbows, tries to push himself backwards to make Skov push in instead of just resting the head of their cock on Ronan’s hole.

 

Hands grab his wrists from behind though and Ronan grunts as his back hits the floor when Joey lifts his wrists. Skov puts their hands under Ronan’s knees and puts them over their shoulders, effectively taking most of if not all of Ronan's leverage. Skov slowly starts to push in and Ronan gasps for air.

 

“Jiang we’re trying to make Ronan stop moving,” Joey says, “Want to help us pin him down?” Jiang pulls his shirt up over his head and catches his thumbs in the band of his pants. Ronan gasps wantingly as Jiang strips off his pants and boxers. Joey barks, “Swan,” and Swan comes around Ronan to take one of Ronan's wrists while Joey takes the other, holding them so Ronan's arms are outstretched to either side of his body. Skov pulls out horribly slowly and pushes in at the same pace, making Ronan groan. Jiang comes to kneel over Ronan's face, thighs spread invitingly on either side of his head.

 

“Skov, would you just fuck him already?” Joey says exasperatedly at the slow dragging thrusts Skov is giving him. Ronan feels Skov shrug and then if Jiang's wasn't hovering over his face he'd throw his head back. As it is he yells, “fuck!” and closes his eyes at the sudden snap of Skov’s hips against his, pulling their cock out almost all the way and then burying it back in with the satisfying slap sound of skin on skin. Skov continues the bruising pace and Ronan hears Prokopenko’s moans pick up, but can’t see anything around Jiang’s thighs. He does know Joey is kneeling on Ronan's left and Swan on his right. Joey picks the moment Ronan blissfully closes his eyes to wrap Ronan's hand around his cock, his own hand around Ronan's. Ronan has enough of his brain functioning to pump his hand on his own even with Skov hitting his prostate every other thrust.

 

At least, he can until Jiang lowers himself down over Ronan's face, arms braced above Ronan's head. Jiang is hot and wet against Ronan's mouth, and Ronan presses in with his tongue. He swipes against Jiang in long, broad strokes that make Jiang moan. When Ronan feels the first initial climb of his orgasm he closes his lips around Jiang's clit as he moans. He's desperate to feel Jiang's come on his tongue and by the hitch in Jiang's breathing it's not far off. He hears Prokopenko choke out a “Fuck, Swan,” but he doesn't open his eyes to see Proko hovering over Swan, his cock in Swan's mouth and Swan's cock on Proko's lips. Swan still manages to keep a hand around his wrist, and he hears Swan moan around Proko’s cock as his grip spasms and he comes.

 

Ronan knows Proko moves to kneel next to him, knees pressed into Ronan’s ribs as he spits curses and strips himself over Ronan’s chest before he comes, because it's then indicated by the sudden streaking of come across his chest. Ronan moans when he feels it hit him and something in his head pitches and makes him dizzy when he feels Proko’s fingers come up to his chest and touch the cross on his sternum. Ronan shudders.

 

Ronan presses his face up into Jiang as his pleasure spikes, Skov fucking him relentlessly as Joey moans and comes in hot streaks over his and Ronan's fists. Ronan's moans against Jiang are non-stop and they vibrate against Jiang’s clit when he sucks on it hard. He gives it a nip as his head goes fuzzy and Jiang grunts, body curling over Ronan's head as he comes. Ronan flicks his tongue rapidly over Jiang's clit as they both crest through their orgasms, the heat in his abdomen unfurling and shooting through his limbs in thick curling pleasure. His spasms around Skov send them over the edge at last, pumping their hips against Ronan's ass as Ronan's eyes roll back in his head.

 

By the time Ronan comes back down he's laying flat on the ground with Jiang between his legs cleaning him with a wet cloth. Kavinsky is wearing Swan’s sweats and sitting with Ronan’s head in his lap, scratching his nails over Ronan's scalp.

 

“What time does Dick want you back?” Asks Swan, again splayed out in his nest of pillows. Ronan shrugs.

 

“His phone says 6,” says Skov, strolling in clothed with a bag of chips, Ronan's keys hooked on their pinky, and Ronan's phone in their other hand. Ronan sighs.

 

“You crash it-” he starts.

 

“I'll dream you a better one,” Joey interrupts. Jiang coos at them as he gets up with the dirty cloth and throws it at Swan, who makes a noise of disgust, and then stands holding the cloth between a thumb and forefinger. Swan and Jiang head upstairs and Skov flops into the pile of pillows to wait for them.

 

Before they leave Ronan's hand shoots out without looking to grab Skov’s ankle and has his phone dropped on his chest immediately in return. He pretends like this isn't a habit, and like he doesn't expect the tightening of Joey’s fingers in his hair when he opens his phone to text Adam.

 

“He knows I'm here,” he tells Joey. Joey nods as if he didn't know that already. Ronan doesn’t know how he ended up in this position, with Adam waiting for him at the Barns and somehow understanding that Ronan needs this thing that Adam can’t give him. Joey had teasingly suggested once he teach Adam what Ronan liked and Ronan hadn’t expected the explosive reaction that came from himself. It communicated a resounding ‘no.’

 

They've done this too often maybe, but Ronan will never be tired of it whether he shows up to wind down or just to help Swan collect soft things around the house to throw into the basement.

 

He feels the healthy muscle of Joey's leg under his head and the lack of tremble in his fingers. He’ll never be tired of that either.

 

**Author's Note:**

> check my bio for my tumblr


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